George hesitated; a second shock made the ground shiver under their feet. It was over as quickly as it began. Grimly, George stuffed the pouch into the front of his tunic. “I’ll get it to him, never fear.” He kissed Alanna swiftly and hard, then ran for the Hall of Crowns.
Myles saw Alanna go, protecting his head as tiles broke free from the arches overhead, shattering in the main aisle. Jonathan flared with white and blue lights; he was invisible in the fires of his Gift and the Crown. The doors leading out of the Hall were jammed with fleeing men and women, as were the great City Doors. Eleni stood, her face deathly pale. “Not the land,” she whispered. “Not the earth itself!”
A flutter of movement in the rear of the Hall of Crowns caught Buri’s always-watchful eye: A man stripped away his cloak to reveal a nobleman’s purple-and-black livery and a short crossbow. He brought the weapon up fast, aiming for Jonathan. Buri yanked a throwing star from her belt and flung it, killing the bowman. “There’s an attack!” she yelled to Myles. “Warn the king!”
Myles’s seat was on the great aisle. He was halfway to the altar in a second, moving fast for a plump man. At his warning shout, both Gareths and the Provost joined Raoul to form a protective circle around the king. The King’s Own broke into squads, one forming an outer circle around the nobles, the others moving into the crowd to attack the enemy. Both circles parted to let Myles through to Jonathan’s side.
“Myles!” Jon gasped through the magics that obscured him. “What’s going on?”
“Men in Eldorne and Tirragen colors are attacking anyone who can fight back,” Myles said grimly. “And they’re trying to kill you. Where are the earthquakes coming from?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll try to find out. Where’s Alanna?”
“Gone,” the older man said. “Something called her away in a hurry. George followed her, and Coram followed George.”
“She has the Jewel,” the king whispered. “And where is Master Si-cham?”
Myles was wondering the same thing.
In Thom’s chambers, Alanna was suddenly weak, as if something tugged at her Gift, drawing it away from her. Steeling herself, she closed her mind to whatever was trying to drain her. Forcing herself to move, she searched for her twin.
He was in the bedroom. Bad as the air in the parlor felt, this was worse: A weight pressed on her lungs. She checked Thom’s vital signs. His pulse was shallow and fast. He was cool, alarmingly so after weeks of being too hot. When she grabbed the ember-stone, Alanna saw only a trace of his Gift, streaming away from him much as her own had tried to do. She reached past the barrier she’d set on her magic, determined to use it to save him, no matter what the consequences.
Thom’s eyes flew open. He gripped her hands with the last of his strength. “Don’t! I’m—bound to him. He’ll drain you through me—”
“Roger?” she whispered. Thom nodded. She spotted her cat. “Faithful, go for—”
“No time!” Thom snapped. “Listen!” He didn’t relax his bruising grip. “His Gift—attached to sorcerer resurrecting him.” She put her ear close to his lips to hear. “It got—stronger—as he did.” Thom smiled. “Never as strong as mine.”
She wiped away tears, growling, “Who cares if your Gift’s bigger!”
“He can only—drain—one at a time. You—you’re bound to me. You have some—my Gift—some of his, too. He needs—more, to finish—what he began. Don’t let him get it. Don’t use—Gift. Leeching spells—” He gasped. “He’ll take—all. Leave nothing.” Thom tried to laugh; the result sounded like hoarse barking. “He didn’t—get—all mine. You have part—” Sinking back, he pulled her with him. His voice was barely audible, his hands cold. “Love you. Always have. Always will.”
“No,” she rasped, but he couldn’t hear.
“Never—know how—he did it …”
He was gone.
Near the staircase leading to the ground floor, George found Coram. “I saw her go, and ye after her,” Alanna’s oldest friend gasped, catching his wind. “I figured ye’d need help.”
George showed him the Jewel. “She forgot she had this. I’m to carry it to Jon.”
“What of her?”
“With Thom.”
Coram hesitated. “I’d best reach her. Unless—”
“I’ll keep the Jewel safe,” George reassured him. “It’s not that far to the Hall.”
“It’s far enough.” Claw and five of his men materialized from the gallery behind George. “My friends said you’d come this way.” He stretched out a hand and beckoned. “Give me the swag now, before I get your blood all over it.” He glanced at Coram. “This isn’t your fight. Clear out.”
Coram hefted his broadsword, his face grim. “She’ll never forgive me if I run out on ye now,” he told George.
George tucked the Jewel into his belt-purse as he unsheathed his daggers. “Rispah, or the lady knight?” he grinned. Claw’s men fanned out, forming a half circle with George and Coram at its center with the stairs at their backs.
“Both,” replied Coram. He leaped forward to engage a ruffian, crying, “For the Lioness!”
Pandemonium ruled in the Hall of Crowns. Other men-at-arms tore off cloaks to reveal purple-and-black or green-and-white liveries. They were heavily armed and had specific targets: the men of the King’s Own, any nobleman fighting back, Jonathan and his guards. Their opponents were high-born and wealthy men with flimsy dress swords, unarmed common-born men using anything that could serve as a weapon, even some ladies and children. Many others tried to flee, adding to the confusion.
Buri could see a knot of noblewomen, including the imperious Duchess of Naxen, imposing order in their vicinity. More men-at-arms poured in through the drapery-hidden entry behind the altar, taking the men around Jon by surprise. Raoul yelled a command and ran forward with the guards in the outer circle to engage the new attackers. Buri couldn’t see Liam, Coram, or Alanna. Beside her, Rispah had palmed a large dagger and was advancing on an unsuspecting enemy archer.
The K’miri girl was torn. Her first duty was to protect Thayet, but she was also a warrior, trained to act in situations like this.
Thayet solved her problem. “Give me your sword. We have to do something.”
Buri glanced at Eleni as she obeyed Thayet. The older woman moved into a pillar’s shadow, unraveling the intricate embroidery on her sleeve. She broke off a long thread and smiled at Buri and Thayet. “Don’t worry about me.” Fixing her eyes on a group of archers near the altar, she began to tie knots in the thread, her lips moving silently.
Buri wrestled a long-bladed pike from a rack of weapons on the walls. Lowering it to an attack position, she launched herself at a clump of men in Eldorne colors. The first one she engaged backed away from her charge: He stumbled. Buri lunged for the kill and lurched as the ground leaped and rolled in a third quake.
Three men in Tirragen colors raced up the stairs to aid Claw as George and Coram dispatched two enemies. Claw himself stayed back, screeching orders and awaiting his chance. George lost a dagger in a throw, killing a Tirragen guard; Coram killed a rogue and wounded another. The men around them shifted, seeking better positions, and George took the offered chance. He lunged at Claw.
The one-eyed man swore and lashed out with his knives, panicked at dealing with George himself. The thief rearmed his left hand with an extra blade, making Claw sweat: He didn’t have the eye or the nerve to fight two-handed. Frantic, he slashed and cut wide-armed, leaving holes in his guard that George deliberately ignored. The bigger man toyed with Claw, spinning him around, raking his flailing arms, taunting. One of Claw’s lucky cuts caught George on a cheekbone, another on his chest.